


Our Stop

by Raicho



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Awkward Daryl, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, Height Differences, M/M, Trains, awkward rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicho/pseuds/Raicho
Summary: Prompt: Person A is too short to reach the railings on the subway/bus, and all of the other poles are taken so they have to hold onto Person B instead.





	

            Daryl knew he hated the city for a reason.

            He’s stuck on the last train out of Atlanta, squeezed amongst a crazed horde of commuters after having given up his seat to an elderly woman with a hunched back and a silver cane. Seeing how none of the city-slickers were willing to forfeit their seat for a little old lady just didn’t sit well with him, and so he’d been the first to jump up and offer. He guesses his momma was right when she said few men kept their manners these days.

            Now he’s standing in the middle of the train car without a single thing to hold onto. The long poles were all hogged by noisy teens and depressed businessmen, to caught up in the lightshows on their cellphones and tablets to move aside and make space for him. He tries reaching for the safety rail that lined the ceiling, but he’s just a few inches too short to make the cut. He can’t help but huff as his fingers continually miss the rail and his tiptoes trip over the vinyl floor. No one seems to take notice of his struggle.

            A bell whistles and the train car’s doors shut. Daryl quickly blinks, desperately looking for something to hold onto—whether it’s rail or wall—but he isn’t quick enough, and the car moves forward with gaining speed.

            Daryl’s knocked flat on his ass.

            “What the fuck!” He hisses, glaring at the ignorant passengers that surround him.

            He tries to find something to grab onto, but everything’s blocked from his reach and the car keeps rocking at every turn, making standing an unsteady option. He just hopes no one’s blind enough to trample him.

            He’s seeing red and he’s about to start cursing out some fat businessman to move the fuck over, but suddenly an outstretched hand enters his field of vision. He dumbly stares at the open palm before tilting his head back far enough to catch sight of its owner.

            “Need a hand?”

            There’s a tall guy with curled blond hair and deliciously blue eyes looking down at him. He’s giving Daryl a warm smile that helps settle the unexpected heat growing in the redneck's gut. It looks like there were chivalrous men out there after all.

            Before he knows what he’s doing, Daryl’s nodding and reaching out to take hold of the guy’s offered hand. His calloused fingers curl around the stranger’s slender digits, and with little effort Daryl’s lifted to his feet. He’s about to pull away when the guy wraps his arm around Daryl’s waist, tucking the redneck close against his broad chest.

            Daryl blushes like a teenager as he’s pressed against the soft white cotton of the guy’s tight-fitted shirt—he’s completely embarrassed, “Uh, thanks.”

            “Sure thang,” there’s a warm rumble that vibrates through the guy’s chest as his grip tightens around Daryl’s waist, “Might want to hold on, though. It can get a bit rocky on these rides.”

“Pfft,” Daryl scoffs, rolling his eyes before looking up at the gentleman that was holding him so closely. He lets his fingers dig into the hem of the guy’s suede jacket.

            “Guess it’s a bit crowded,” the guy laughs, “Name’s Rick.”

            “Daryl,” he can feel his cheeks redden from the introduction.

            “What brings you out this way, Daryl? Don’t seem like the city type.”

            “It’s ‘cause ‘m not,” Daryl subtly shakes his head, “Came to visit m’ brother.”

            Rick gave him a curt nod, “Yeah, sometimes we’ll do crazy things for family.”

            Daryl laughs a bit at the thought of it—coming downtown to visit Merle cooped up in the jailhouse. He must’ve been dumb as a doornail for going through all this chaos just to get his big brother a pack of smokes and a stack of porn mags, “Yeah, ya got that right. Ain’t ever comin’ downtown again.”

            “Never, huh?”

            Daryl looks up to find Rick watching him with curious blue eyes. They both blush at the eye contact, and within seconds there’s a steady stream of laughter spilling from their lips as the train runs along its tracks, passing beneath dark shadows and fluorescent lights.

            “So, uh, you got any plans for tonight, Daryl?” Rick asks, his southern drawl smooth like melted chocolate.

            “Plans? Nah.”

            “How ‘bout I show you around for a bit?” Rick offers, “I’d like to show you this city ain’t as bad as you may think. We could even grab dinner or somethin’ while we’re at it.”

            Daryl’s dumbstruck. He’s always been an awkward fuck, but he didn’t really know what to say in this particular circumstance without further clarity, “Uh… are you askin’ me on a date?”

            He can see Rick’s cheeks turning red beneath the flickering train lights as the taller man speaks, “Yeah, you could say I’m asking you on a date, Daryl.”

            Daryl’s lost his breath; he’s talking to some mysterious prince charming that wants to take him out on a date after having picked him up off the dirty floor of a train car only minutes ago. Either this was a fairytale come true or Daryl was in for a night of some weird shit. His brother always did tell him he should live a little.

            The train’s nearing its next stop, its breaks screeching along the metal rails as it slows its pace along the raised platform. People are beginning to muster around the doors, pushing past everyone like they’re all jammed in an overstuffed can of sardines. Daryl doesn’t even realize when the train’s stopped and he’s still holding onto Rick’s jacket. He’s also more than a bit happy to discover that Rick hasn’t let go of him, either.

            The doors open and people rush out of the train in the blink of an eye. There’s a buzzing in Daryl’s ears as he tosses around the option of going home and getting shitfaced in solitude or spending the evening getting to know some hot stranger. Maybe if he went along on the date, Rick wouldn’t be a stranger to him anymore.

            Rick’s nervously watching Daryl, waiting to hear the redneck’s obvious refusal, but he’s completely taken by surprise when he’s given a quiet nod. Daryl’s shy, but he slips his hand over top of Rick’s and pulls them toward the open door.

            “Yeah, I’d be down for a date with you, Rick.”

            Rick doesn’t just smile; he bends down those few inches that separate the two of them and plants a gentle kiss atop Daryl’s forehead.

            “Looks like this is our stop then.”


End file.
